“Honeybuns, could I have that stapler? Thanks!”
“Honeybuns, could you grab me a pen? Thank you!”
“Honeybuns, could you stand up so I can scrape some honey off your bum onto my toast? Much appreciated!”
Ever since an ironic factory accident, Mr. Honeybuns had become much more popular at office.
She was soft-spoken, quiet, and reserved. Her favorite word was mutability. She loved the idea of it, loved the concept of transformation and change.
He was brash, loud, and arrogant. His favorite thing to do was orate forcefully about the overwhelming inevitability of fate.
It was love at first fight.
Erin Sterling is constantly undergoing training montages to be an editor. When she is not training, she is stage managing, staffing at a community-based larping group, or sleeping.
The girl cries in the subway station. I leave my friends to themselves and go over to her. We have a couple of drinks while she talks her sorrow away. The next morning I leave her, knowing she’ll be alright.
That’s what I should have done.
Please forgive me.
Jonas has written this story a couple of times before in different formats for different purposes in different languages.
“She said yes!”
“Huh?”
“She said yes!”
“What?”
“I mean, I knew she’d say yes, but that doesn’t make it any less exciting!”
“Um…”
“I’m just so thrilled!”
“About what?”
“That she said yes!”
“I gathered that… Yes to what?”
“That she likes me!”
“…That’s it?”
“And we’re getting married.”
Sorry; I just can’t think about anything else! :)
Pam’s boss asked her to help raise some puppies that he’d found. Pam was quick to offer her help. She sincerely promised her husband, “No more dogs.” They would find homes.
Little Leo, with his pink nose and blue eyes, has now been part of Pam’s family for three years.
Sabrina Hicks has a passion for writing and animal rights. Besides writing she donates time at animal shelters and now owns three dogs, one cat, and a bird.
Editor’s Note: Aaaaaaaawww…
It stepped gingerly from floor tile to floor tile, peering through the panes of glass with eyes widened by wonder and awe.
“Why ya gettin’ all googly-eyed?” asked a child. “Ain’tcha never seen a candy store before?”
It hadn’t. And its translator was broken.
It felt threatened. It reacted poorly.
This story was based on a title suggested by @Keab42.
After thirty days of rain, the clouds got bored, so they made it snow, instead.
People whined and complained, but the clouds didn’t speak English, because they had come from Brazil.
The local government hired some Brazilians to complain to the clouds on their behalf. It didn’t really work, though.
I learned to knit when I was two. Now I can follow complicated patterns and all my friends receive knitted creations for their birthdays.
My husband is annoyed by the click-clack of my needles, and I suspect he is plotting his revenge. Perhaps he’ll knit me up in my shroud.
Cath Barton lives in Wales. She has many pastimes, including writing, but is not a great knitter.
Kevin’s unfocused eyes were cast upwards, drifting lazily with the clouds. Half a smile played across his face.
The other half sat on a porch swing in her parents’ back yard, but it was hiding behind a coating of chocolate ice cream and actually had nothing to do with Kevin.
This story was based on the title suggested by @davefp.
The life of a pygmy banana is short and sweet.
As buds on the branch, they live with joy, innocence, and enthusiasm.
The growing process is a time of learning and maturation.
Some fall from the branch and freely give of themselves to the grateful wildlife.
Others simply rot.